What Inspires Me.

The little things.

In My Bag.

Assorted eyeliner, at least three
A water bottle, half empty, half full.
Coverup, to mask my flaws
Tacky lotion, that reeks of cupcakes
Heaps of change, congregating at the bottom
A paperclip or two, for nervous moments
Gum wrappers. Mint tin. Lipstick.
A mini papa smurf, the only man I love
Back up glasses, my favorite color
Pens and pencils, for the average school girl
Birth control, keeping me in check
Benadryll to calm my allergies
An iPod, to drown you out
Headphones. Condoms. Check stubs.
A hate letter, addressed to me long ago
A super duck, who defends me from evil villains
A small mirror, traveled from France
Marilynn Monroe, tiny and fire breathing
Blush to give my pale skin color
And eyeshadow, rarely used.
Remnants of yesterday, a randomness I can't control.

What I learned.

In reality, I suppose I haven't learned a whole lot. I lost a teacher that meant more to me than any of my other teachers ever have, I suffered greatly, I moved on like I was supposed to, and now I get to sit and wonder, like I'm supposed to.
Loss isn't easy for anyone, in any sense, but I tend to deal with it by letting go as quickly as possible. I grieve, and then I ignore. It's not the most healthy manner, but after all the suffering and pain, I know what I can and can't handle.
I have learned that you cannot take anything back. Each action is forever in motion, it happened and will never change. There is no going back, all you have now is the present, because you aren't guaranteed a future any more than you are to be a millionaire.
Lives change and grow separate from one another, but you find yourselves intertwined with people you're close to. That's where pain comes from, the hopes and expectations you have. In any case, each person sets themselves up for failure, and falls regardless of the expectation. Nothing is ever quite as it seems.
Although, the climb is worth it. Everybody falls, but not everyone gets back up and tries again. In my mind, everything will be okay with time. Pain dulls, the happy moments shine, and I let myself be taken away in the happiness, because that's really all there is to life.

Obese Pooh Bear.

Blog Reviews.

Your Eyes Will Be Satisfied
He writes about Spirit Toads, dying snowmen, and Disney land. What more do you need in a blog?
Traffic Cones on Churches
This is Sydney. She's better than you.
Till Human Voices
Freya is incredible. She will blow you away with her depth, and how beautifully articulate her poetry is.

Rebecca. Martin Williams

  

Rebecca, insane at last

                as we all knew she would be

                the veil finally stripped away

                by brutal love

                more brutal than the love she 

                yearned for

                at the hand of a shrieking mother

                who kicked her in the stomach 

                called her whore at the age 

                of ten, because her brother

                raped her.

Rebecca, insane at last

                those dark wounded eyes

                in the round soft face of a child

                of twenty-six

                scratching at my window at three in 

                the morning

                wet with rain, forcing me to see

                what I had done to her

                when I withdrew love. It was now

                when I treated her the worst

                she desired me the most

                and made sacrifices.

Rebecca, insane at last

                a cold white hand floating

                in a tub of milky red water

                and Jean Nate

                shoulder and head leaning to one side,

                The Death of Marat,

                damp black hair stuck to tiles

                once held to a lover's face

                like a bouquet of roses

                blue lips vaguely smiling

                as she punishes us.